All Fired Up (22 page)

Ash scooted his bum a little closer, until his denim-covered thigh was almost touching hers. Then he dug in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, which he opened to show her. The letters ‘IOU’ were written on it, next to ‘£40’ and her signature.

‘I’m not coughing up for something I don’t remember.’

Ash scrunched the paper again and dropped it into the sick bucket. ‘Nothing about what we discussed?’ He wrapped his arms around his bent legs and rested his chin upon his knees.

‘Nothing,’ she whispered, wishing like mad that there was something she could remember. It sounded as if he’d told her things she’d want to know about, the sorts of things that bonded people together.

‘Has this happened to you before?’ he asked.

‘Never.’ Ginny apprehensively chewed her lip. Then she blurted everything out in a rush – all her suspicions and all her fears. ‘I think I was spiked, and I’m scared to death about what happened. What you witnessed is bad enough. What if it went further than that? I might have done anything with anybody.’

Ash sucked in a long breath with a hissing sound.

Too agitated to remain still, Ginny pushed herself to her feet and began to pace the short gangway between the kitchen and bedroom. She wasn’t certain Ash even believed her, but she knew gut-deep that it was the truth: someone, somehow had drugged her. It was the only reasonable explanation for her behaviour the previous night and the symptoms that had hounded her most of the day.

‘Who by?’ he asked, getting to his feet too.

‘You tell me. Who went near my drinks?’ All two of them.

Ash didn’t immediately reply, he just paled.

F
ucking Iain had spiked her.

He hadn’t considered it, but ought to have. It made perfect sense.

Ash jammed his fingers into his eyes, trying to obliterate the memory that suddenly plagued him. ‘Just hang on to these, will you?’ he’d said to Iain, handing over his and Ginny’s drinks for him to watch, so that he could escape yet another of Iain’s talks about them getting some material together for a project that didn’t involve the rest of Black Halo.

Surely Iain wouldn’t have. He didn’t want to believe it of him but, if what Ginny said was true, it was the only logical conclusion. In his heart he believed her, even if his head wasn’t entirely ready to get on board. It had always been a little thick, though.

Shit! If it were true, then that meant not only was he friends with the worst sort of scumbag, but Iain had also brazenly lied to his face about what had happened.

Ash struggled, trying to decipher a motive. Why would a friend he’d known for years, someone to whom he’d just given a significant career boost, deliberately try to destroy his relationship with the woman he loved?

To split you up, you fool. It wouldn’t be the first time,
whispered his subconscious.

But he had no proof of that, only the vaguest of suspicions.

He was involved. You know it. You’ve always known it. He’s always hated anyone capable of drawing your attention away from him. He only likes it when you’re his pet, and only his pet. You’ve forgotten, that’s all, suppressed the memories of his possessiveness. You moved on, let go, but he never let go.

Iain had relentlessly maintained their friendship over the years, even when Ash had let things slide to the point of rudeness. Letter writing wasn’t his thing. He sent the odd text, but he lost his phones so often he rarely managed to hold on to people’s contact details unless they were in his immediate circle all the time.

Iain wrote and called and even sent Ash’s mum Christmas cards.

‘Ash,’ Ginny whispered. She looked so wan as to appear ghostly. ‘Do you … do you believe me?’

The evidence was there: not just their history, and his handing over those beers for Iain to hold, but, if he was being perfectly honest, in his own physical symptoms. He’d drained the rest of Ginny’s beer along with his own after he’d witnessed the little scenario he’d been presented with – and not long afterwards he’d started feeling heartily sick.

At the time he’d put it down to shock. Seeing her touching and being touched by another man had made him feel as if his ribs had cracked and someone was yanking out his insides. He’d sought the oblivion booze offered, but the beers had gone in a few long pulls and did nothing to deaden the pain or melt the hurt of her turning wordlessly away from him as if he’d never meant a thing.

Alcohol alone wasn’t enough. To truly block shit out required stronger stuff. Pills he had no intention of going near again, because he liked having his brain switched on. He’d run instead, round and round the perimeter of the vast campsite, until his legs gave way. He hobbled back to the tour bus as the sun was leering over the horizon, and because his calves had protested at the climb upstairs to his bunk he’d slept on the sofa beneath Cave Troll’s berth.

‘Ash,’ she prompted again, the quaver in her voice betraying her fear that he’d dismiss her claim.

‘Yes,’ he said simply, both wanting and hating that he believed her. ‘I do believe you.’

Relief briefly chased the careworn expression from her pretty face. She clasped her hands before her, fingers folded tightly over the knuckles, and pressed a kiss to them.

‘Thank God,’ he heard her mutter.

Thank God he’d come back from the toilet when he had, because he was acutely aware that things might have got a lot more ugly. ‘You didn’t have sex with him,’ he said, realising she might be fretting about that, and wanting to reassure her it hadn’t got that far. ‘He was kissing your neck and he had his hand up your skirt. I don’t know that he was actually fingering you. He may only have intended to give that impression.’

‘Why?’ she asked, blinking at him in confusion.

Ash crossed to where she stood near the bedroom door, and clasped her upper arms. ‘I think he meant to split us up, Ginny. And he very nearly succeeded. He played right into my deepest fears.’

‘That I’ll abandon you for someone else,’ she said perceptively, raising her hands to stroke the contours of his face. Her whisky-gold eyes filled with immeasurable warmth. ‘Why would I even look at another man when I have everything I could possibly want in you – bad-boy looks, a body to die for and mad, mad licking skills, and that’s before we move on to the big squishy nonsense lurking in here.’ She laid one palm against the centre of his chest.

‘I’m an idiot. I should have known something was wrong when you didn’t speak to me. You’re always full of opinions.’

‘I don’t mind that you’re an idiot,’ she said entwining him in her embrace, so that her cheek pressed tight to his chest. ‘I’m just as big an idiot myself.’

Ash returned the cuddle. It felt good to hold her securely against him again. He’d missed her all day with every bone in his body. He hadn’t wanted it to end, but he’d believed he’d seen a glimpse of truth: that she didn’t care, that she valued him as no more than something she’d scrape off the bottom of her shoe. He ought to have trusted her. After all, he lived a life constantly distorted by smoke and mirrors; he ought to have known to ask questions, not just accept everything as it was presented.

‘Let’s get out of here, Ginny.’ He wanted to be away from the bus and the band and Iain, in a place where he could straighten his thoughts and work out what to do. A confrontation seemed inevitable, but here and now wasn’t the time for it. He needed to compile his evidence, so there were no doubts about Iain’s complicity. He had to ensure Ginny was safe too.

He picked his jacket up from the floor, then grasped her hand and laced their fingers tight. ‘This is a port – there are bound to be plenty of hotels, or we could go straight to Karlstad. That’s where we’re playing tomorrow night.’ Assuming another gig was even possible, since they’d be a band member short. ‘Or do you want to go to the police?’

‘The police? Ash, I don’t even know who slipped me that stuff, whatever it was, and even if I did I don’t know that they’d do anything anyway. We’ve crossed borders. I don’t think a festival in Denmark is in the local jurisdiction. I’d rather not make a big fuss over it. The important thing is that you believe that I didn’t willingly hurt you, and that you realise Iain’s a prick.’

‘I do believe that, and I don’t just think he took advantage, Ginny. I’d lay money on him having been the one who spiked you.’

‘You think he was the one?’ she gasped. Her mouth fell open. ‘I only thought he took advantage of my obvious lack of inhibitions. I mean, he’s been coming on to me all tour, but going that far …’ She swallowed audibly, and then her eyes brightened. ‘Where is he? I’m going to fucking murder him.’

Ash caught her around the waist. ‘Ginny.’ He held her tight as she tried to kick free.

‘Let go of me, Ash.’

‘No.’ He clasped her firmly against his body. ‘Mutilating him might feel satisfying at the time, but it’s not the right way to deal with this. If you go into that bar and start yelling, then he’s just going to suggest you’re a crazy stalker and have security restrain you. Chill,’ he hissed into her ear. ‘Let me deal with him. I need to right this. It’s my fault he’s here and part of the band.’

‘I can fight my own battles. That scum-sucking bastard doesn’t frighten me.’

‘He should, because if he’s prepared to drug people, what else is he prepared to do?’

She stilled suddenly, but not for the reason Ash expected. ‘Arrange accidents,’ she said. ‘Like dropping lights on people’s heads.’

Boom
! Ash thought his whole world had just exploded, because he couldn’t laugh it off and suggest that was ridiculous. The truth was that if Iain wanted to get rid of Ginny, then surely he wanted to get rid of Xane even more. How often had he heard Iain bemoan the fact that Xane had stolen him, and with him Love Rocket’s shot at a record deal? Only dozens of times over the last few weeks, and thousands of times over the years. He could easily have been responsible for all the press leaks and unfortunate happenings that had beset the tour.

You know it’s the truth
, whispered his subconscious. It had an awful lot to say tonight.

‘We have to go, Ginny.’ He clasped her hand, meaning to drag her to the entryway, but the sound of approaching voices dissuaded him. Through the darkened glass he could see the rest of the band returning from the bar.

‘Bathroom, now,’ he ordered, dragging her in that direction. He pushed her into the shower cubicle while he stood on the toilet seat to lever open the emergency exit window. He went through first, doing a roll so that he hung from the opening by his fingertips with his back to the side of the bus, before dropping neatly onto the tarmac. ‘Ginny,’ he hissed. She climbed out feet first and fell into his arms.

‘Why are we running?’ she demanded.

‘Because I need to think, that’s why, and I need to find Xane and talk to him.’

‘He’s in Halmstad with Dani.’

Ash blinked at her. ‘Halmstad? Since when?’

‘Since about midnight. I don’t think he’s going to want to talk to you right now.’

‘In the morning then,’ he agreed, still pulling her away from the bus. ‘We’ll deal with this all come daylight.’ Right now, his priority was to put as much distance as possible between her and Iain because heaven knows how far Iain would go to get rid of her once he learned the first attempt hadn’t succeeded. Ash was rather relieved to learn Xane was in Halmstad and out of immediate danger. The rest of the group were probably safe. Iain knew as well as he did that Xane was the glue holding Black Halo together.

T
he first train to Karlstad wasn’t for another two hours. Ash bought the tickets, and then they had the pick of the benches in the old station’s vast, echoing central plaza. The café wasn’t open yet, nor was anywhere else, so they couldn’t grab a couple of mega-coffees to ward off the cold. Ash snuggled Ginny inside his leather jacket. He realised it wasn’t exactly cosy, but it was something, and she kind of looked sweet in it.

‘I’m wishing I hadn’t drunk quite so much vodka earlier,’ he muttered, as he stretched out along their chosen wooden bench and rested his head in her lap. ‘Remind me to drink a shitload of water before I go to sleep or I’m going to be good for nothing again tomorrow, and I’m going to need to be able to think straight.’

She didn’t quibble with him over the change of date. He operated on the principle that time stopped at two o’clock, and after that it wasn’t the next day until you’d had some kip. The fact that the first fingers of sunlight were creeping over the glass arch above their heads was irrelevant.

‘Can I ask you something?’ She enquired a short while later, as she stroked the long strands of dark hair back from his face and explored the stubble that was starting to work its way through the skin over his jaw and upper lip. ‘What made you believe me? And what makes you so certain that Iain was the one to spike me, not just take advantage?’

He sighed, raised a hand and skimmed it through his black hair. ‘A couple of things, I guess. A horrid sense of déjà vu being one of them.’

‘You mean he’s done this before?’

‘Spiked someone? Not that I’m aware of, but I guess I wouldn’t put it past him. No, I meant tried to destroy my life. I just didn’t see it, or didn’t want to admit it, at the time.’

She rested a hand on the flat of his stomach as he spoke. Ginny seemed to have a thing about his abs, exploring their contours and laying her hand flat against the hard muscle there. She went so far as to wriggle her palm under his T-shirt. ‘Explain.’

Ash licked his dry lips. ‘Connie,’ he said so quietly she probably had to strain to hear him. Dredging up those memories still punched holes in his heart.

Ginny shifted her bottom uncomfortably. ‘Your ex,’ she said. ‘Did Iain try it on with her too?’

Ash crunched into a sitting position, unable to discuss this lying down. He swung his legs and planted his feet on the ground so that he was facing the tracks. Ginny scrambled over and sat astride his lap. She jogged up his chin when he refused to make eye contact.

‘I don’t know what he did, just that he did something. There’s no other sensible reason why it went so horribly wrong. The two of them never exactly got on. Iain wanted me to be one hundred per cent dedicated to the band we were part of back then, and Connie wanted a life beyond watching me put calluses on my fingertips.’